gone with the wind; a shortcut to tara

dear windy evening diary,

the wind picked up quite a bit, but my windshield never got wet. the lady with blue hair fucked with me all night long till i almost couldn't stand it, but she is no match for me. then i gave it right on back to her, came home, went to the store, spent almost two hundred bucks on groceries, UH! got sour cream, cottage cheese, an atari controller, pinesol, two headlights, a loaf of bread, some ham, bacon, baby back ribs (cooking them now oink oink) coleslaw (for becky) tapioca pudding, icecream AND cones, brats, dogs, itialian dressing, chips, bean dip, peanuts, eggs, biscuits, milk and did i say ATARI controller? i meant xbox360 or whatTHEFUCKever. oh yeah, the unibomber ALSO got 18 twelve packs of pepsi throwup. his cart total was eighty bucks NOT COUNTING THE FUCKING CONTROLLER.... so that pretty much sucked up the whole two stack i brought to blow on eating. he also got oreos and potato chips and coffee- since i accidentally spilled that vanilla shit on the floor and everything. someday if the wind blows extremely hard, (i said HARD) i am hoping the chicken chested mother fucking unibomber will just possibly up and blow away. be sure and read that correctly, i said, "up and blow away."

no objections

dear frank or frankly diary,

i was convicted of being a whore. all day long. cuntface made sure of that. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. i never spoke once on my behalf at the trial however. i let it all happen before my very eyes. i was a strong whore. my mind kept flashing back to times that it shouldn't have been. i let it though, because it passed the time. when it wasn't replaying scenes that actually happened, my imagination had me in FELONY court instead of misdemeanor- and IF we were in the middle of a murder trial, would they be getting away with all the lies the way that they were piling on me now? this is how innocent people are executed- i can remember feeling so helpless as i sat there and let it all unfold. THEN when the smart ass bailiff came out and gave a thumbs up to cuntface and the hero, (SITTING HAND IN HAND FOR SHOW ONLY) and then let the jury back into the courtroom, i knew it was all a sham. i knew i was guilty before the sealed verdict was given to the judge. that's our justice system. i wonder if ida been a married whore, like the 'victim,' if the jury would have given me a break- maybe had a little sympathy for me- even though i ain't the one who needed much of that- to be frank- in the frankly frank department.

cook and serve instant replay

dear do i know you diary,

happens to me ALL the time. people flock up to me and ask, "is your name autumn? is your name lisa? is your name brenda? are you related to sidney?" twice, and once recently, some creepy shit has happened, a lady kept staring at me, (that part ain't creepy- people seem to stare at me all the time like i'm some kind of oddity or something- which ordinarily wont bother me) but there is a certain kind of stare that is different- a haunting stare that will pierce right through you- almost burn you when someone does it. finally i sat up straight, because i was sitting at the time, AT THE TEXAS ROADHOUSE (where ALL fun things seem to happen) and the lady eventually came over to my table, (like they seem to ALWAYS do.) i found the lady to be as sincere and nice of a person as anyone could be when she told me the brief heartbreaking story of her daughter and how she was killed by a drunk driver coming home from a sunday evening church service and how i looked just like her and had the same mannerisms and that is what made her watch me so intensely. she apologized if she'd made me feel uncomfortable and thanked me for giving her comfort in such a random and unexpected way. she said my laugh especially reminded her of her daughter and she'd thought of my laughter as music. i was touched by that lady and how creepy it was to be a ghost from someone's past. but maybe that girl was inside of me that day- just trying to say, "i love you," in some way- and maybe that is why everything seems so familiar.

hot dogs and onion wings

dear mustard no relish diary,

two hot dogs just came in from the back yard. neither one of them had any condiments on them, but both had steaming buns attached. i wanted to eat the smaller of the two, but the bigger one kept following me around until i kissed him on the head. he finally found a place to lay down. i settled on a donut, a huge diversion from my fruity diet plan i adopted earlier in the week, but a welcomed treat. something later to look forward to, chicken wings on the grill- marinated of course. i ain't a big fan of buffalo wild wings out by the mall- or weldon springs park- for that matter- but i sure do like chicken wings and the colorado place. but ima eat them at home today. right here in my clean assed kitchen. i finally did get 92.5% of the dishes done. i think i'll cook an onion today and have me an onion with them wings. onion wings. i like onion wings. the hot dogs like onion wings too. can you believe becky eats coleslaw?

report summary 2005-2011

dear awake again and requesting proof diary,

a man was once jailed for proclaiming the earth was round and i myself have been a pawn on the big chess board of the justice system- so i am telling you right now, nothing is as it seems when you think you know- even when you DO know. i know i never sat on the window off that truck and yelled down the road- because my window would not roll down- or i prolly would have. it's as simple as that. how do i know what i want to say is falling upon the right ears? to i just take the chance and tell it to the entire jury? because you know i will. i never thought i was good enough- never thought i measured up to the quality of standards of which you held yourself to. i don't like to dress up and i don't like to first class and i don't like to spend money and i don't like the big dumb houses and fancy white shit you gotta keep clean- i'm practical. i like to eat and live and get dirty and most of all- HAVE FUN. but now seeing your life from the outside like i have, and all the nasty bitches you've had since and before, and now, and getting to know your ugly ass wife, MY GOD, and i get called the whore. that's fine. i know i gave you the most HONEST AND TRUE love you will ever have IN YOUR LIFE. there was a time i loved you more than ANY of your wives. ida moved Heaven and earth to be your one and only- it breaks my heart to know when you looked in my eyes it was all so fucking phony. i gave you the benefit of the doubt until your benefits all ran out and you still kept trying to access the account and finally it was time to give mommy a shout. and now we are here?

closing up shop

dear i was going to the bank diary,

i thought i was going to the bank, but i think i will go back to bed. i don't need any money i don't think and if i do, oh well, it will have to wait. plus i already have some money, just not a lot. but i don't really need anything. but i would have liked to have gotten a rat maybe. my eyes are all crossing and i am tired and i got a big afternoon and i'll never get eyeliner on if my eye doesn't stop twitching. i got most of the dishes done last night after i cleaned my shelf- before i painted my nails and after i went to get donuts and milk. i really need a nap. so. ima do that while i am thinking about it.

the freaky squatter

dear lazy overlay diary,

doing what is easiest sometimes ain't the worst thing. really. oh shit now my right eye is twitching. that usually means something significant. altho, to date, i have yet to figure out what that means until after it happens. you can see it moving in the mirror too- it is quite the freak show. but anyway, last night before i went to bed, i fucked around and just painted over my nails and they been had paint on them now for a week. that is fucking some lazy shit right there now. so this morning when i got up to let the dogs out, i used my hand to open the door and i looked down and i was like, "WTF?" i had perfect fucking nails again. i'd FORGOT i'd painted them already. then i spent the next eight and a half minutes- the whole time the dogs were out- just sitting on the stairs GAZING at my nails and looking at the reflection of my tooth and eyeball in each one. amazed at the quality of opi paints, again i swore off any other brand. vodka & caviar is what i have on today- the reddest of all reds. it is an old color, classic they call it, but i love it. it will match my boots i plan to wear later to the important place i feel i need to go.

fish cant swim in whiskey

dear saturday diary,

today is the day of the week i miss having a mother the most. we would hang out today more than other days prolly. she was always 'on the go' before she got sick and that's how i remember her, 'on the go.' wherever she went, i went and i loved every single minute of her activities. she did ALL the fun things and knew all the cool people. plus, we always got to eat out at the best places and shakey's pizza was one of my favorites. they still have shakey's pizza in california- and that damn pizza still tastes EXACTLY the same. it has beer in the sauce, my mom told me that, and i always thought you could get drunk and wondered why she'd let me eat it. i couldn't even say the word "joint" without being popped in the mouth- oh but i could eat beer pizza. i think my mom could have softened A LITTLE BIT as far as marijuana goes and her attitudes towards it, but i highly doubt it. my dad found this bag of spices (bay leaves) and called me to come over to make sure that it wasn't marijuana one of us kids left in the house. i assured him it was not marijuana AT ALL and we threw it in the garbage. it was at that point i realized- i'd really put my poor dad through hell over the years. he was laughing his genuine laugh, so i know he got a kick out of the whole deal, but it was sure an eye opener for me. there was a time i prolly would have smoked the contents of that bag.

hands across the water

dear pissing in a stream diary,

man i have to pee right now. i could piss a lake. i really could. i  know i could make a fountain prolly- i have that good of pressure. i used to think you could tell the size of a guy's dick by how hard he pissed. ain't that dumb. well i found out that ain't so accurate of a tool as to judge for a dicksizer. so skip that. i guess all the years i spent listening were a waste. ewww. while i am sitting here thinking about why i am not pissing, i know the longer i wait- the longer it will be before i have to go again. now that is a true sleep warrior. always thinking about the longest possible sleep stretch. at the end of the day i don't mind pissing- i just don't like pissing in the middle of the night as much.

dusty numbers

dear interior design diary,

here's what i did tonight. i cleaned a shelf. oh man. i was supposed to do the dishes and ended up cleaning a fucking shelf and arranging all the food numbers i've lifted from all over the USA in some strange order on the used up lighter tray that used to be full- and then took a picture. i honestly think i could entertain myself and be happy for the rest of my life doing this. i do. nobody else does this anymore. there is nothing to cry about. i can go get a donut if i want. but i don't want to. fuck a doughnut or a donut. i feel like a road trip though. the highway is calling me back again. i need more food numbers for my collection, for one thing, and i gotta get out of here. thought about just packing up the car and filling up the tank and going- but then where would i stop? i suppose it wouldn't matter.

the 20 yard dash

dear on the side diary,

that sounds like a really great idea, puttin it on the side, especially since that is where it has always been- on the side. it doesn't take much to get over something you're not in front of, now does it. i'm dumb- i'm dumb- i got the big fat thumb. here's a thought, we will switch sides- how's that make you feel? mmmmkay? fuck. clearly i now have a chunk of fingernail out of my thumbnail on my right hand. one moment please- i must fix this without further hesitation. now that i have my nail filed smooth again, i feel much better about myself. i will forever wonder what caused the chunk to come from my nail tonight, as i will forever wonder the cause for the determination that it was necessary for someone to keep me on the side after promising to make me front and center time and time again. when my nail breaks, i file the bitch off so it will grow back repaired. i don't get on CRAIG'S LIST TO SOLICIT FOR A NEW HAND.

behind closed doors

dear i had a post diary,

well folks, technology failed again. i had a post set to post while i was sleeping telling of my whereabouts, in case someone was worried, possibly thinking i had triggered some stawking behavior with my previous posting, which i did not, i took a nap so i could get up and do the dishes and give becky a bath. i took the dogs out in public earlier tonight, the both of them- at the same time- and they blew me away. i was so tickled they were my animals and proud to have them as my beasts. they look so mean and stupid and they were the most well behaved animals. they never barked or showed any disrespect to any other animal that was there- i guess it's just like it was with the kids when they were little. they only act like idiots in the privacy of our own home.

a box from the closet fell on my head

dear fences and aprons diary,

if you put up a large new privacy fence will it keep people from looking in your yard? here's the thing. i say it will cause a mother fucker to wanna look and see what it is you got up in your yard you are trying to keep bitches from lookin at- more than if you just left it open for people to see. you can hide more in plain sight. trust me, i know. i mean- not that i hide shit- i'm just sayin- i realized this five- almost six years ago when i started hanging around with the hero who did absolutely NOTHING to hide his shit- and i mean nothing-uh. it does work though- if you ever do need to hide something- plain sight- you'll lose it every time. openly displaying things you would ordinarily try and hide is one way to keep secrets. not sharing things you would ordinarily share is another way to hide things. so. you never know what kind of apron your mom might wear when she cooks next time. she might hate that one- or it might be her favorite. 

all over the map

dear amazing thing diary,

i've had my hair up now for the last three days. i am hating life up there. i need a little trim. when i travel across country- i do not like to stop. i like to start my trip in the late afternoon and usually i am going west, so driving into the sun doesn't bother me. the sun usually will always set midway through missouri- oklahoma if i am lucky, but just as long as it comes up by amarillo time- i'm good. when i was a kid the cadillac ranch seemed so much bigger and cooler than what it really is, but once you get to it- you know you're on your way. fuck i wish i was there now. it'd be hot though. i wouldn't care. i could be hot and happy- as long as my hair is up. 

i know dr. jack

dear jack diary,

damnit i forgot to go to the bank and then i found out jack died. damn. that is so sad. ima miss that old fucker. i really related to him in ways i never thought i would. i've had this bumper sticker since the FIRST bush days, kept it handy for display during the 'W' days, and had it packed away during bill's term, i liked bill, even if he was a manwhore, (most 'bills' are) and for some reason it seems to of found its way out again- but i dunno why- i like obama. but now the bumper sticker ain't no good anymore. jack has bit the dust. i guess it would be a good item to place in a time capsule. but i'll prolly just put it in a box. did you know it is against the law to kill yourself? doesn't that seem like a silly law? what would be the punishment for it? death?

i get by with a little hailp from my stawkers

dear have you noticed diary,

there is something different about me. i wondered if anybody even noticed. have you? i'll give you a moment to reflect. can you think of anything yet? fuckit then- i'll just give it up and tell you- I QUIT STAWKING. ain't you all so proud of me? i just primarily use it as a road now and only once in a while catch myself looking over. even though i now have TWO other cars at my disposal, i have used NEITHER vehicle TO DATE to do any dirty work. you guys- i think i have finally moved on. i still collect mounds of trash to expel at random controlled certain areas around town, BUT I'VE NOT DONE THAT IN LIKE SIXTEEN DAYS. i honestly think it may be all behind me now- or at least to the side for the time being. i am so pleased with my progress and i know you all are too. i can feel it. i just want to say THANK YOU EVERYONE- because without you guys, i'd prolly still be stawking.

city mice taste blan

dear grey door diary,

my old house had a new back door on it. i'd say it was due for one. i hope they didn't fuck with that bad ass front door that nobody ever used. my old house had all kinds of doors and porches. in all actuality, it had two front doors and two back doors. they put a new back door on the porch is what they did. so it's prolly the best insulated part of the porch now- that door. well and the closet- if there are any coats hanging in there. it was cold as a big bitch in there. i had a washer up there in the summer but that fucker would freeze up solid as a brickbat come winter. i know that is where all the mice came in- from the back porch. i coulda chewed through the walls myself. farm mice are smarter than city mice too, because THEY KNOW shit city mice ain't gotta know about. like, when you put out mice and rat poison- you cant touch it with your fingers- they KNOW and they WONT touch it. you gotta use a fork and get it out of the tub it comes in. we'd put that shit out in the barns to bait the little devils. i sure wish ida had my snake out there- ida let her run loose in the cellar AND barn. i sure would have. i bet country mice would taste better than city mice to a snake. when you live in the country- you gotta give up the rock and roll. i'd go back there in a split second. but i think i'd keep my city house for when i needed noise and an escape from the bugs or when i just wanted to hang with some thugs.

#rocksinmyboot

dear i miss my rocks and boot diary,

i totally miss my old background of rocks. that is sad. i see them everyday in real life, but i miss seeing them on my blog. i know what you're all saying in your heads right now..."boo hoo..." am i right? well fuck you. i could put it back up if i wanted to. but it is against the law- my blog law. i could put my boot back up there too- i liked it as well- but again- the law prevents this. i don't think the law says i cant repost those pictures in my posts though, so if you guys don't mind- maybe i'll post the rocks AND my boot when i'm done for shits and whistles. here i'll just be done now so i can hurry up and see both again.

i love this picture so much. i know every rock personally.

recess on vacation

dear for a moment there diary,

all that time i thought i needed a vacation. i don't. i get one every three days- well every 48 hours i get a 24 hour break- a reprieve- a giant exhale. it's like, "ahhhhhh." for instance, i know i am free to bounce around and do whatever i want tomorrow. that is awesome to me, because for a few hours in the afternoon tomorrow- ima do something i consider important. often i feel crowded in my life. i don't like to let others in. when i do- it tends to be on my terms- which is pretty selfish of me- but if i like you- you're all i want. if i don't like you- well, i cant help that either. ima pretty easy book to read- i think. i tend to speak pretty loud. frankly, i'd rather deal with someone like me- who constantly displays (even exaggerates) how they feel- then the person who hides it and keeps it all bottled inside and then explodes without warning. i am totally forecast-able- like the weather. you know when a cold front is coming. you know when to bring an umbrella. you know when to take cover. but you will also know when it is playtime- which will be most of the times spent with me.

gritty pickle posted green

dear damn diary,

every dish in the house is dirty again and i fired the housekeeper and my kid snuck out before i woke up. FUCK. i feel like leaving as well. if i had some good weed right about now, i'd smoke it and have them dishes done in two dish loads and prolly have something pulled out of the freezer and going for dinner- at least in my head. ima eat the rest of my strawberries and turn on the casey trial in a few minutes. them dishes will just have to wait. i need to rest. i just got up. my body feels gritty today and i already turned the air back on last night before it got all stupid hot again. now that i have had my fill of strawberries- i am fucking ready to eat a tomato. i cant wait to try a tomato and onion sandwich. the amish fucker where i got the strawberries said he would sell me a bushel of tiny cucumbers for SIX OR SEVEN BUCKS. he will just flip a lid and shit all over himself when i give him TEN and ask for NO CHANGE. ima make sweet chunk pickles again this year and not give ANY to the goat. he can make his own. tell you what, i'll even write a pickle post and tell EVERYONE how i do it.... if i can remember. i'll have to find the paper i use. the ones i made last year are just now at their prime readiness to eat, but i been eatin on them since i made them. someone told me you could do the same thing to green beans, and i am beginning to wonder.

one pussy pillow, a lonely twat, and two kick balls

dear expandable diary,

feeling perky before bed is not how i like to go, but it is how i'll be going tonight. i had the weirdest things happen last night in bed, so that was fun. if you caught that in one of my early morning posts yesterday- i kicked the wall- i was kicking the unibomber in my dream and he was still awake when i did it so- i fucking had to explain what i was doing and i'm not a good cover upper when i'm sleeping either- so when the chicken chested bald headed mother fucker asked me, "who was you kickin at?" i flat out told him, "you bitch." we stayed pretty much out of contact all day, which was fine and i thought later- it could have went the other way and he could have caught me humping the pillow i call my big pussy pillow- the one i sleep with crammed in between my legs. i have to have three pillows- that one i just told you about- a puffy one above my head that i put my arm on, and a flat dumb pillow for my head. so that is two big ones and a flat dumpy one. ima picky pillow person. the most important pillow is my pussy pillow. if i don't have something big between there- it'll throw my back in to funkyville. it'll make it all crickity. a good pussy pillow is my secret to sleeping like a princess. i can get by with two other dumpier pillows if my pussy is happy. well. hail. i really should stop and think about the things i write on here before i start giving away damn near all my secrets. somebody'll be able to find my pussy along side the road and be able to take care of it all without me and then nobody'll be needing the whore anymore. not even my own damned pussy. what a fucking deal.

telegraphs

dear domesticated wonderland diary,

we allow fucking animals to freely roam in our houses you guys. cats and dogs- birds and snakes- ferrets and gawd only knows what else. i keep my snake caged for the majority of the time- but two dogs rule my roost. they own the fucking joint. sometimes i look at them and i wonder- who in the fuck said it was okay for animals, i mean ANIMALS for fuck sake, to come in and live inside our homes, share our beds, smoke our dope, eat off our dishes, shower in our showers, use our towels, eat our food, watch our tv, and have the everyday comforts of living in a home. i have bought both my dogs sandwiches at arby's, i've been at the drive thru and wondered what else to order FOR them. i've also, on MORE THAN ONE OCCASION, wanted to call home and make some kind of communication with one of them and let them know i got them a new toy or a surprise coming. i've spent hours trying to invent a communication device where they could contact me as well. i know becky thinks about me as much as i think about her when i am gone. i love that dog. so much. damn. it ain't even funny. i love the grump too, but it is hard tellin what he thinks about.

it best have meat on it

dear throw me a bone diary,

do not ever approach me abruptly and say, "here, drink this," because i wont. i wont. same way with eating something or anything. don't do it. i cant think fast either. shit scares me when you jump at me and i don't like that. so do it to somebody the fuck else. fucking ugh. gawd i am so full right now. i ate fajitas whila go. i know, i know, i know. i couldn't do it anymore. i broke, fell of the wagon, jumped off the ship, ate the cookie, cracked the glass, whatever you want to call it- that is what i did. i ate a plate full of fajita meat and onions and violated my oink oink diet today. but i will crawl in bed such a happy pig. i would waller in sour cream and sweet salsa if i could. mmm all day. all day i dream about salsa YES all day i dream about salsa. well ima feel guilty for awhile and think about sleeping.

blind study BULLSHIT

dear chronic diary,

i am not suggesting anyone club that fat fucker mike, or accidentally t-bone cuntface in an intersection, find a cure for cancer, or restore our garbage pick-up to twice a week- but just tell me what it feels like to be normal in the mornings? is it like that everyday for you? if you want to cure cancer that would be so bad ass. i think someone has already discovered the cure- but nobody has come up with the right price yet. i hate feeling that way- but just like my commenter left a comment earlier- it's all about the fucking money. people sit around and suffer- while the answers are right there. i've seen it. i saw it. but i'm not going there. i cant. politics and medicine do not mix. hostility and hate do not mix. some things in life you can not change, but some things you can. i dunno, life seems to short and kind of important than to waste it all on a man. it can all get snatched away and then you're left with shit, left to do butt fucking nothing but throw some immature fit. all i want to do is smoke a little pot, but for the time being- marlboro lights is all i've got.

TOTALLY out of ORDER

dear callous diary,

something tells me there will be BIG change in the air. cheech went to the door and put her key in the lock and it didn't work. she tried a different door. well, long story longer, none of the locks accepted her keys anymore and when she went to the bank- her name was off the accounts. then she couldn't authorize the voice mail (for shits sake) and she had not a clue as to what was going on. the fat fucker mike from virginia was back in town- and he just got run off a few months ago. he'd brought a 'secret' safe in the office and had the only key and combination and when big man jimmy got there he cornered the fat fucker mike and made him open it and didn't like what he saw inside the 'secret' safe and chased him out right on the spot. well, big man jimmy is out of the country right now and has no idea what is going on, but that fat fucker mike took it upon himself to fire all upper management at work, and that is driving all of us peon workers mad. everyone says it ain't over yet and not to get used to the fat fucker mike. i wont. because i quit. fat fucker mike can suck my dick. ima wait til big man jimmy comes back and kicks his stupid ass. omfg.

a known fact

dear all the stuff i need diary,

oh my gawd. all i could think about was hawking up a big greenie as i walked by the rolling hot dogs at the gas station, but i could NOT do it. i've seen people actually eat those things. but they are all open in the air and shit- you know people do that if i wanted to. i'm ashamed, but just a tiny bit, i've never had the urge to do that before, but i could see the fat ass hero cramming one in his mouth for some reason and it struck me right then. i went so far as to suck a big greenie spit wad up in my throat- still- i couldn't do it. twenty years ago- ida done it, then stood around and waited JUST TO SEE WHO BOUGHT ONE, but now- couldn't do it- couldn't fucking do it. i coulda fucking done it though- had my life depended on it- but it didn't. i hope it never does either because i will spit a greenie on any weenie to save my life.

spf 41 skin cream and tub snacks

dear strawberries in the bathtub diary,

watermelon and strawberries are my diet now. i have to shed my weight. i haven't gained a pound, yet i feel disproportionately like a fat pig for some reason and i ain't diggin it. fuck a pig. fuck a cow. my legs are so bad ass and i am sick of everything else not matching except my teeth, hair, fingernails, toenails and twat. know what i am sayin? it's on. yoga helps. i have nobody to blame but my own body and ima sure be hating getting old, but i see others my age and i wonder- why don't i look that old. people always comment how i cant be as old as i tell them i am, and i know one day it will catch up with me. when i saw the hero after court the other day and the deep wrinkles set around his eyes it absolutely shocked me. wowsa. if that happens to me, ill be signing up for the plastic surgery.

infobooks and court crooks

dear learning while watching tv diary,

during the oj simpson trial, i taught myself how to french braid my hair. both with the braid on top and the braid underneath. i checked out a book from the library and sat on the bed with my baby and learned myself. everyday i watched the proceedings and everyday i got better and better until finally i could do it perfectly. then on that final day of his trial the jury came back and dude walked and a little part of me celebrated. not because he got away with MURDER, for fucks sake, but because justice failed MISERABLY, in the most public of ways. watching the new and improved oj trial from the sunshine state, i couldn't imagine knowing my very life was in the fate of twelve strangers and an alternate or two- could you? i feel like i need to learn myself something while casey anthony's trial moves on. i really do not see how the mistakes that were made that were so costly before have improved much. it's gunna be a toss up how this one will turn out. then the critics will start their chewing. i just want to learn something while this is all going on, that way i can remember what i did after it's all said and done.

we had cable

dear expensive to heat diary,

i miss our old house, but i don't miss the heating bill. i don't miss all the constant mowing. i don't miss the bugs. i don't miss driving half an hour to get milk and half an hour home. i don't miss the fast traffic and rocks on the road. i don't miss plowing our own street. i don't miss the skunks, okay yes i do miss the skunks. i don't miss the dirt blowing in from the fields. i don't miss the sound of that noisy pump drawing water from the well across the driveway. i don't miss the mice. but i do miss the flowers and the cellar and the dogs running free and the garden and getting the mail naked and my neighbors and the driveway bell and the sweet corn and the creeks and the quiet and the stars and the sunsets and the cookouts and the fires and the weed and peeing outside and the puppies and planting trees and running through the corn- before it got too itchy.

drowning in a sea of goatcunt

dear raining in the gardens of love diary,

ever get dizzy when you kiss? it might be from the mother fucker's bad breath. you never do know. i think that's what happened with me. i thought it was love. it's okay if you laugh out loud. i do- at times- i never cry anymore. but i used to. that was before i found out i was a whore. fuck if that didn't change everything. once i got the perspective from old cuntface on how it really was, how i am, shit, how it all was, aww hail, ain't nothing ever been the same. i feel free now- liberated- and i have money. when she told me i was a whore and i took that under advisement- it opened up a whore new world for me. that one five letter word has given me definition and purpose in life- like never before. once, an old mean but very wise goat told me that sometimes people come into other peoples lives for specific reasons. while i never kissed that mean goat, i do often remember what he said. maybe i should have fucked the goat that day when he blasted, "what do you want me to do, fuck you?" ewwww. no way. only a whore would have done that and i didn't know i was a whore yet. back then. i didn't forget either.... SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE ....and y'all thought i was slippin.

smarter than ever

dear weird things diary,

when i lay on one side of my head, certain types of blog posts fall from my brain and try to make me get up and type them out, so i flip over and lay on the other side and guess what, then the other types of blog posts come. that is when i finally got to realize last night where it is all these posts are coming from. i believe the silly random drivel comes from the left side of my brain, because while laying on my right side of my head- i could think of nothing but goofy things that made me laugh and smile in bed. it is hard to try and go to sleep or even relax when you are laughing at the thoughts going through your own head- i can assure you. i flipped over. i had a moment of silence and then laying on my left side my right brain started pulling its shit. the hemisphere on the right is a bit darker and requires a plan when navigating through the trenches of the prepostings there. the outlines and rough drafts can be somewhat scary- even for me. i fell asleep on the left side of my head and gave the wall a good kick and now my foot hurts. i took tylenol for this.

picking my teeth

dear image of the afternoon diary,

imagine how you felt on your worst day ever- on the day when you skin felt tight, your clothes ALL seemed made of polyester, your feet were heavy, your eyes cross without help, you cried when the toast burnt, your words mushed together like potatoes- but this was okay with you. just think if you were happy feeling like that everyday- ALL DAY long and liked feeling this way. i couldn't do it, but people get used to feeling like shit and before you know it- it's their way of life. that's when the poor choices are made and life long changes get cemented in stone. fucking sucks to be you. wake up- i want to be with you. i always walk on air because my head is always in the clouds. imagine what it is like to be me. i never know from day to day what is supposed to be funny and whats not because it is all funny to me. how would you cope with that? life is a big joke, or mine is anyway, and i like it that way. i do. from one extreme to the other- i kinda see how that could work. but i cant be with someone unhappy with their time here on earth. up for grabs is how things will go, if you see the smile in my eyes- i imagine you'll know.

blood filled strawberries

dear red juice on my shirt diary,

i forgot how to eat a strawberry. thankfully, half way through the bowl, but a little on the late side for my shirt, i remembered and then ran out of sugar for the last one. i reunited him with his friends. my dad would say i didn't need sugar for them, but that's him- for his strawberries. i gotta have sugar on mine. i got a recipe for strawberry salsa, but i ain't making that this time- ain't got my fill yet. plus i cant get up the nerve to put an onion anywheres near a strawberry- omfg. ima eat some more strawberries in a minute. i got my first mosquito bite today and my whole arm swelled up and i figured it would fall off and i'd prolly die. i never did. it was an amish mosquito. it came on a buggy and left on a horse drawn wagon train. i killed it. slapped it dead on my arm while it was sucking on me- that big hero. one less lonely blood filled hero in the world and i'm going to be fine. 

finally back to my life

dear slow day diary,

it was a slow day on ye ole blog, because i didn't feel like entertaining the hero today. fuck him. let him entertain himself with his own hand and sexy thoughts of his adoring and attentive awaiting wife at home. you know what i am saying? let him ride his ten speed to work and hopefully find another whore to transport his tiny apparatus and two wheeled unit home from work for the extra half an hour of tiny dick time. i couldn't be more relieved that it ain't me doin the dirty work- at four bucks a gallon and 12 miles to it. i enjoy my dry snatch slumber. in fact, ima take me a nice long nap now. in my nice clean sheets. and ima leave my phone layin around. and ima leave my door open. and ima even sleep with my window unlocked. cuz CUNTFACE put the leash back on. THANK YOU CUNTFACE- ABOUT FUCKING TIME. wish ida told that fucking bitch FIVE YEARS AGO.

broken chicken wings

dear thinking about this diary,

if we passed each other on the street, it makes me wonder if i would even know you- with me having that facial recognition disorder and all. i betcha i wouldn't. i'll bet you i would walk right on by you because, i didn't think you were that sexy in the pictures i saw of you before we met in person. in fact, i was BANKING on the fact that you were like me- one of those super NON photogenic people- who all but break the cameras when someone takes their picture. out of the two million or so pictures taken of me over my lifetime- prolly only NINE are any good. i hate having my picture taken for fear it will look like the other 1,999,991. wait though, i cant say that, cuz some of my baby pictures are so cute. my mother had them taken every two weeks until i was like seven- til i started loosing teeth and getting boobs and a smart mouth. but oh well, even angels break their wings. FUCK.

merry Christmas to my favorite Daddy

dear people with access to internet diary,

it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. i bought all kinds of ornaments year before last, lets see, that would have been in 2009, and packed them all away- and then last year i didn't decorate shit. actually i haven't done the Christmas thing for a few years. gosh, golly, gee whiz, and fuck me- as i sit here and force myself to think, um, which is hard in itself, we had just one Christmas tree the first year in this house and i believe we've decorated plants after that and then nothing the last few years. anyway. while cleaning the basement- i now have all my Christmas shit together- the old and the new. i am really excited this year. we will be starting a new ornament collection for the baby this year too. RULE NUMBER ONE: there will be no fire truck references made in toys, clothes, Christmas ornaments, on cards, games, movies, cereal boxes, sheets, pillows, rugs, posters, room decorations, diaper bag, or anything. i don't care if WILLIAM is his FIRST, MIDDLE, or LAST name, this child will NOT grow up to be a hero. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE.

big blue sky

dear hay in my mouth diary,

i need to chew in something and many times hay feels really good smashing between my teeth and rolling over my tongue. fuck whoever ain't chewed on a piece of hay and cant appreciate that, and bless those who can, it's a mighty good way to clean your teeth too, by the way. you could have asked my grandpa, but he died when he was 92 WITH ALL OF HIS FUCKING TEETH. so that right there ought to tell you something. but hey, if you don't want to chew on hay, that's on you. i grew up on the shit. i think it is beautiful. look at this shit. wanna stick your mouth around that? seriously. isn't that beautiful? you don't have to agree, but you can if you want but you don't have to because

i already know it is. and tasty fresh too. the smell makes me sneeze when they cut and bail it. but i can chew on a piece all freakin day. you can drink through a piece of straw too. but you should do this before you chew on it because you'll smash up the ends and then it doesn't work as well. hay is fresher than straw anyway. so i didn't mean to confuse you. ima be down where they make them hay bails at today. i wish i could stick one in the trunk and wag it home. but i couldn't lift it. i could take a sandwich bag and bring home a handful of hay to eat later, but i'd prolly rather have oats or corn. 

listen to my body

dear wednesday morning fever diary,

i wasn't dreaming when i wrote this- i was up and moving all over the house. the garbage still hasn't gone from yesterday- so i took some more bullshit out. the recycle can is so full- shit wouldn't hardly fit in there- but i didn't but it in the garbage either- i put it where it goes because i care. i was sleeping so good when becky came and woke me up. she needed to go outside to shit or piss or whatever and i said, 'damnit fuck.' that's when i got up and started posting on here today. well- after i took the little garbage out- i didn't want it to miss its ride. now i am ready to kinda go back to bed again. becky and the grump are already snoozin like the mother fuckers they are. i will return a better whore. 

this little plight of mine

dear going east diary,

my bangs are so long again i have to pin them up just to see the keyboard. i just ate a half a watermelon and an inch square of pizza. i did very well on my diet today, but i did slip upand eat a turkey hot dog, cut in half, with an onion on it, which i cooked in butter. i decided it was official. i think i could eat an onion sandwich. this is a new thing, for today was only the second time i ever had a hot dog with cooked onions on it. omfg. i will be doing that again. turns out i love onions now. who knew. like i said a minute ago, i am headed east- to my bed. i lay my head south and my feet north. but that will soon change. good night dear people who live inside my blog. i will brush my teeth before i come back here. i think it is a safe day today, so everyone relax.

kibbles and bits

dear for sure diary,

i get the most personal emails after i post shit about the goings on in my daily life. it makes me wonder how many of you live with me now. sometimes i wish i knew, but i'm kinda glad i don't. that way i don't fall in love. because you know i do that easy. that is one of the two reasons i NEVER respond to any of the emails i get. plus- it is true. i become attached like a lost fucking dog. a starving lost dog no less, wait, make that a cold starving wet abandoned lost dog- all alone with my physical dog bodied family- who're prolly running off somewhere causing a disturbance and me- the only quiet dog survivor- and i have the sweetest puppy dog eyeballs and i love you so much already and i want you to take me home. but you wont. and that is fine because i have my own big people house where i pay my own big people bills and i am fully capable of taking care of my own fucking needs and i have the unibomber who wont leave ever, even if i had you carry him away, so oh FUCKING YIPPY yay for me. i will live on my blog here forever, until further notice.

bert and ernie were not gay; my turtle was

dear in the capacity of others and the way they read into things diary,

i worry about y'all sometimes and the quality of your sleep after you read some of my vivid postings. i watched my brother cut open a turtle one time cuz i told him the turtle ate a half dollar that was silver and worth way more than fifty cents. now that part ain't true. but we did find a turtle once that we named ernie, because i said bert was gay. looking back now, i don't see why that mattered, the part about bert being gay and all, but clearly he wasn't. but wouldn't that have made earnie gay too? even gayer? huge fan of bert right here folks- i have three piggy banks of him right now. i'm just now starting to fill them back up. i decided i was broke last month and cashed them all in. i had 1455 dimes and 56 half dollars in one. YIKES! i was happy as a lark. but i told you all that before. we had that ernie turtle for quite awhile actually. we kept him down by the pond. he was a good turtle and never caused any trouble- he kept the man under the road company. then one day we came home from school, my brother and i, and ernie was smeared across the road. somebody did a burnout on ernie and there was turtle on my mom's tire. SHOUT OUT MOM! WE STILL LOVE YOU!

itchy little man bugs; FUCKING HATE THEM

dear looking the world from the eyes to the balls diary,

standing at my doorway remembering everything AND the smell of what i washed away in my bathwater- from out of nowhere to have that experience even once and then to come back again... in a simple statement, is what i really feel and expect will change the very nature of my life forever. shaving my legs is what i am talking about- all the hair is gone again and lotion liberally applied and my legs are again approachable- if you have an appointment. i feel much different- less hostile at the moment as well. i may even allow the unibomber to live through the night, provided he remain as far from me as humanly possible or come to me bearing fresh ripe strawberries from our old back yard in nokomis. yes, those were the good old days when i could get pissed off and storm out of our hot two story house with a bowl of sugar and sit and eat strawberries in the back yard in my bikini slappin the bugs off my belly and flippin the unibomber off every time i caught him spyin on me. that mother fucker has annoyed me since the bikini days.

the shaking shanking skank whore

dear shitty fucking mood and good time for a sudden departure diary,

by the looks of things, the unibomber is setting himself up for the long haul. which is totally fine with me. i let him see me naked the other day (accidentally on purpose) so i could have told you this was coming. i don't do anything to try to impress him, why should i. um, first two clues, i bathe only when parting his company and brush my teeth primarily for the same reason. clues three and four, my armpits and seaweed stench levels are growing abundantly. clue five, on one hand (excluding the wicked words we expressed this morning) how many words do you think have we exchanged in two days? ahh yea and finally, when is the last time i have been dressed? it was last saturday, the 21st. and before that it was april 29th, and before that it was april 9th, and before that it was in december. i backed myself into this mess and spin my tires on a daily basis. smiling the entire time, wishing i could smoke the good weed and at least get a fucking kick out of the stupid like i used to. i will shave my legs tonight. but not to impress anyone, for the serious safety concerns. i need to get all the razors used and put away before i make shanks out of them again. i learned how when i was in jail those few hours- a skill that may end up coming in SUPER HANDY BEFORE THE DAY ENDS. omfg. shout out CUNTFACE.

DOA seedling t. treelimb RIP

dear i stole a tree and i liked it diary,

so what. hang me. prove it. fucking show me the tape. so there. i didn't even know it was a national forest let alone what national forest it was from. and it prolly was premeditated too, because i brought the shovel from illinois all the way to south dakota WITH A ZIPLOCK BAGGIE AND DIRT BY GAWD and i was gettin me a tree to plant in my butt fucking yard from the head park. and turns out, there were plenty to get- but you had to go across the street from the heads. you dont need a shovel to steal a small tree from the forest, or at least i didn't. i never took my shovel from the car in fact. my tree pulled right up from the ground. i named it seedling t. treelimb, but seedling never really got to thrive like she was supposed to. when i put her in her new dirt, she looked hella happy. i watered her back at our shelter and put her in a plastic cup- hoping she would feel more secure for our long journey. when we got home i was so excited to unite her with our mid western soil. i put seedling t. treelimb into my yard and tied her to a stick. i knew i would soon have part of the head forest in my very own front yard. not so fast. into the front yard the unibomber did drive one friday evening around dusk. my heart began to pound as i flew outside and look down to the ground at seedling- her twig she was tied to- just crushed. my dreams of having a head forest from south dakota were gone- seedling was dead. just another PRIME example of wanting to bash the unibomer upside HIS head. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. i got a better tree growing out there now that's half grown already- from a colorado forest and made HIM dig the hole for it. so there. now what.

boner x-ing

dear i saw the sign diary,

i saw a sign in the park rolling through there yesterday and i mustn't forget about it. i have to go take a picture of it before it gets dark tonight. it's been there prolly my entire fucking life and i just saw it. so i'm an observant little creature huh? and kids, the anniversary date of my loosing my cherry (and thus becoming a whore) is coming up next week, so i figured while i was there, i'd snap a picture of the exact spot for you all, since i lost my virginity on 'boner hill' and didn't know that is what that place was called till YEARS LATER, i'll start drafting that post in my head- look for that one june 6, 1987 at about 9:41PM. i can even tell you what i had on- if it wont spoil it for you. it really was a hot night- even in a short ass mini skirt and tiny ruffled along the bottom tank top. fuck was it hot. i was happy to have not worn any shoes- even riding on the back of his bike.

ahead? or behind?

chewy chips AHOY suck

dear i have another idea diary,

wanna cook one hamburger on the grill? LET'S TURN ON ALL 5 BURNERS! want to? okay einstein. that way when we run out of gas IN TWO WEEKS, you can scratch your bald ass head and wonder why. K? omfg and while you are at it- spend an hour on cutting up that watermelon WITH THE ELECTRIC KNIFE, so while i'm paying for all that propane to cook your burger, i can pay to cut that melon up i bought at the store for you to eat too. how bout that shit. hip hip hooray. have i fulfilled your every expectation of bitch as you requested when i got up today or shall we continue as i am comfortable for the duration? if i could bash you in your head, believe me, it would have already happened. but then you'd be the little pussy dick victim and join the hero club.

had it UP to HERE with the blanket that laid eggs

dear in a bad mood are we diary,

eww. fuck you. and i mean it. i am not in a bad mood. you are. not you who is reading this, i hope, but HIM, the unibomber HIM. FUCK HIM. for the last time. omfg. now then. eww. that mother fucker called me a bitch less than a MINUTE after i got up today for the third time and that AIN'T a record. he said someone ran into the back of the car and all but had me by the hair to take me to show me "the proof." i saw none. turns out, the "dent" was under the license plate. holy fucking whoreshit. what a major wreck that must have been there. who checks under the license plate for random dents? now check this out, the plate is NOT dented. wouldn't that be like checking under a blanket to see if IT had laid an EGG? blankets don't lay eggs, but if the unibomber were to check, I'LL JUST BET YOU THERE WOULD BE A GOLDEN ONE.

no difference

dear they love to swing diary,

there were six thousand whirly birds in the downspout- at least that is what the unibomber said when he got down from the ladder he left leaning up next to the house. i have the same problem, putting my stuff away when i am done, but at least i get it back where it goes. i clean up my messes. well, usually i do- unless there is a court injunction that prevents me from doing so, and just when i was just getting finished. listen, don't tell anyone about what shouldn't have happened. nothing will ever be the same again. forever i will have this stupid smirk upon my face. i always crack myself up and this time is again no different.

who can it be now?

dear wouldn't you shit diary,

wouldn't you guys just blow a gasket if the author of this blog turned out to be someone wildly famous? like oh hail, i don't even know who to put now, ashley judd, or kate hudson, or demi moore or gawd forbid lindsay lohan? or what if i was a dude? fucking michael moore, or lawrence welk, or johnny depp? or larry king? OR ANDERSON FUCKING COOPER?? ahahhahha. that's who i am. i am anderson cooper. the gig is up y'all. or what if i was michelle obama- or hillary clinton. oh my gawd the possibilities are endless. i did write that post about the NSA the other day and i wasn't talking about 'no strings attached.' naw, i'm just the whore you guys. ask cuntface- she'll tell ya. if i could be anyone in the world tho- i'd be kate hudson. she is fine as hail. her mom is too. the two most beautiful women in the world- right there. goldie and kate.

styrofoam housekeeper

dear sparkling garbage cans diary,

the glad garbage bags i've been buying now for the past few years are leaving ink on the side of my garbage can. words you can plainly see imprinted on the inside of my can that have transposed from the bags. i think that is fucked up. the generic ones never did that shit. oh and, i am tired of paying almost eleven bucks for garbage bags. that's fucked up. so i cleaned my garbage can this morning. it looks brand new again and it is ten years old. i just love a clean garbage can. i think it is important, especially now since it takes so much longer to fill it up. really. since we started recycling again like freaks- we hardly have any garbage at all. this week it is ALL styrofoam. i am having a hard time knowing styrofoam isn't recyclable. omfg, then WHY is it still being used and WHAT are we supposed to do with it? the two tvs were packed full of the shit. i've reused all i could in repacking my bottles and stuff- i put some in my plants- but shit. i sure wish i didn't fire my housekeeper maria. she prolly would have come today and that would have been really nice to watch her clean the garbage can.

trixiethepirate

dear leaning towards a discovery diary,

whenever i think i am on to something- i hurry up and go to bed. i fear i will find a breakthrough and change the way everything is- and not just for me either- for everyone- so i hurry up and go to bed so when i wake up- it will all be stupid again and i will feel safe and secure. now hang on, i ain't saying i am smart. what i am saying is sometimes i accidentally stumble upon great coincidences that are left unnoticed and unsorted- and when directed to the right spot- just make more sense. i've been cheated a lot throughout my life, prolly everyone feels they have, but i have also been given so many rewards. i always wondered if those rewards were the cause of the shortcomings. if they were, then maybe that would be fair- but i should have known they were coming. but i do now- ah ha. i am the author of my own treasure map, this is true. but there are many red "X's" marked clearly for me to view. whether i return to the treasures someday- well- that is something i have the ability to do, but sometimes wealth is not always held within the treasure- and that should be my first clue.

a whole hot torpedo with 1/2 an uncle tony

dear first day of not eating diary,

ima starve today. it wont be pretty. i gotta do something. i feel huge. fucking big as a whale. oink oink. moo moo. my jeans still fit and fall down, but apparently that don't mean shit. i feel thick and i don't like it. ima do something different and fast- starting today after i go to mcdonalds. no wait. i am not going to mcdonalds- i don't know why i said that. i never go there unless it is 4AM. on tuesday's, my weakness is la gondola's. damn them. not today. not for a month. i am on a diet. no pop either. water and juice only for my blubber ass. i am seriously considering drastic measures. i can eat cream of wheat and watermelon and mushmelon and strawberries for a week. i can treat myself with a popsicle and be cool as a cucumber. i don't care what that scale says, i feel the shit. sign me up. ima hit the cream of wheat heavy.

help me rhonda

dear no explanation needed diary,

please shut up. that was my wish for myself during the night last night. my thinking is that watermelon must make me talk. all i do is explain the order of protection in my sleep, i make fun of it and the people involved and how and why they obtained it. i think i give part of my stage show at times, and other times, a cop interview, it goes back and forth in between the two scenarios. one minute i have complete control over what is being thrown out there and the next i am being interrogated. i don't mind talking to the cops usually. i don't get an attitude with them, well once i did. the officer came over here to my house and said the neighbor (who i was friends with her sister) accused MY PRINCE HARRY of throwing a bologna sandwich in her swimming pool. that PISSED ME OFF for the following reasons:

1. we had no bread
2. we had no bologna (I DON'T BUY THAT SHIT)
3. it was a BABY POOL
4. since when do we call the LAW over a BOLOGNA SANDWICH?
5. i KNEW her sister very well, could she not have CALLED?
6. really. A BOLOGNA SANDWICH?

well, i no longer talk to her sister and don't miss her a bit. we have bread now, but i still don't buy bologna. people complain about THE dumbest shit, i dunno, and our government and judicial system take notice of it. maybe if some swift just lines were drawn in the murky waters, THINGS WOULD BE CLEAR on how people could FUCK OTHERS MORE APPROPRIATELY. i believe i'd look into re-defining the LAWS OF HARASSMENT- seems like it should be a TWO WAY STREET, if you ask me, but then NOBODY ever does- and that's fine. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. I LOVE YOU.

still waiting and counting the days

dear good morning stawkers diary,

this time tomorrow, we should have all of made it to the half way point of the year. unfucking believable. do you have to wait till the end of june though to technically be at the mark? ill fucking do the math later and let you know. i just woke up. okay, it would be day 182.5, which ain't til july 2 at about noon. so we ain't to the half way part yet- so fuck it. that is bullshit. i was ready as a big bitch for this year to be half over so i can be one more MOMENT closer to smoking pot again. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE. I HATE YOU.

average buck off time

dear fried ants diary,

when an ant walks by i get my lighter and guess what i do. i fry the little fucker. yup. "sizzle up and fry you little ant bitch," that is what i usually mumble under my breath. then i sit back and make sure the bitch is dead too. it doesn't take much heat to kill an ant, so i don't see how they walk on concrete that you can fry an egg on. just pointin that out. so i watched the fucking rodeo at the mirage in vegas last night in HD on the tv. i learned all about how them boys ride them fancy dumb bulls and how them fancy dumb bulls are shipped all over the damn united states with the rodeo and there's a whole bunch of history behind them bulls. some of them suckers are just downright special fucking cows now and meaner than fuck. but for the most part- they all seem to know why they are there. to be honest with you, the ONLY reason i stayed watchin the programing is because when i passed by the channel- i thought the announcer had said, "AVERAGE FUCK OFF TIME," as i was passing by, so i flipped it back and he said it again, but it was, "AVERAGE BUCK OFF TIME," which was damn close enough for me.

diet ribeye steak and watermelon

dear nothing really happened tomorrow ever in my life yet diary,

so ima eat watermelon in a minute and prolly change the french fry oil and clean the fryer thing out before the garbage goes tomorrow. and then i might take my socks off and do a load of dishes. but one thing is certain, i must shave the seaweed off of my legs before long or ima be a monkey girl. i have four hairs growing out a tiny mole on the back of my left leg looking more like a spider every day. i thought about cuttin them earlier, but i thought why ruin the high when i slice them with the razor. shazam... yup that watermelon is gunna be good as a mother fucker. ima eat the shit out of it. i gotta diet for two days and give my poor body a rest. i ain't done nothing BUT eat since thursday and i gotta slow down before i swell up some more or i will be riding on the back of some sweat hog bike. eww. gawd. eww. gawd. no. gawd. please. jenny the whale weight watcher.... ima keep my eye on you.

the wild pretty ferns i stole from time to time

dear where the green fern grows diary,

now hear this. i have a wild green fern growing in my yard. i feel blessed. i used to go and steal ferns from the people across the street where i used to live. SHOUT OUT OLD NEIGHBORS ON WILLIAM STREET WHO ARE DEAD NOW. the ferns i dug up always fucking died- i never had good luck with them bitches and planted them on the same exact side of the house and everything. late at night, i would sneak over with my pail and shovel and dig up a few and pee my pants laughing the whole time i was doing it. i felt so stupid because i knew they'd give me as many as i wanted. but it was much more fun to get them this way. i had a couple that lived, but they never did come back after winter like theirs always did. to make things worse, after i took some of theirs, it made their fern crop just double in size. i had to sit from my porch everyday and see that beautiful shit and it drove me absolutely insane with jealousy. but i had the tiger lilly's and moon flowers everyone else wanted. but all i could think about was them damned ferns. they made my mouth squirt.

i'd fucking DIE first

dear fat men with loud bikes diary,

okay what IS your deal? personally, ida be more impressed iffin you had a pick-up truck or a toyota corolla. i ain't a bike kind of gal. i mean i am sure there are bike whores out there for ya waiting though- all day long in fact. just lined up waitin. but when you pass me on the roadway and make your bike hurt my ears- i already hate you- so don't bother licking your lips or whatever you call that mouth action shit you did at me- i was done when you passed- you really didn't need to slow that hog back down. speaking of pigs- ain't you one. why ain't you covered up more anyway? i know it is hotter than hell today mister, but that ain't no excuse for having that body out. you need to get a muffler on that bike, a rope on that kite, and a jacket on your white brother cuz you a nasty nasty boy. i slapped the living dogshit out of my kid for honking at you and i KNOW you seen me do it.

a collapsed brain synapse

dear empty nest syndrome or theory diary,

the house is quiet again, all but the dogs and even they aren't going their usual rounds yet. even they are enjoying the space, the quietness, and the organization of the regular paced chaos they are used to. whew. the whirlpool of excitement has ended- for now- but it will come again. the number eleven means chaos i was told once. that seems funny to me because i always called that number, 'the railroad.' eleven- an interesting combination, two ones stuck butt up next to each other, ten plus that extra ONE (causing chaos) equals eleven. it seems also fitting that eleven be an odd number, since it is odd, and that this year is an odd year filled with chaos. hummm, and we've just now thought about making it to the half way point, but not quite- not yet. eleven, not seven, not so many ways to see to the edge of what tomorrow will bring, but to the end of what we had today. if someone were to ask you what the meaning of life is, think for a moment before you answer. it could be eleven, or it could be forty two.

over-drive

dear the backs of my legs diary,

every time i see my favorite customer the backs of my legs hurt like a bitch the next few days. for the longest time, i thought i had a vitamin deficiency, but i am beginning to think there is another genuine cause. i am not complaining, just curious. ima pay more closer attention to the overall positioning of things, which is characteristically twisted with him anyway, to see if i can tell where these residual muscle aches could be coming from. i may have to do some quick stretches out on the sidewalk while i wait for him to pick me up next time- or insist he get a bigger vehicle. i never did understand his 'feet in the headrest fetish.' i guess he thinks of them as stirrups- but it would be much better for me if i didn't always have to fight that gear shifter in my back.

skitso-frantic

dear fucking eyes wide closed diary,

i swear right now, my right hand to the screen as i peck type with my left hand, i forgot what i wanted to swear to. but i could swear or affirm anything right now because i am in that kind of mood. if i was a dog, i would hate to be woke up by having someone pet me. the unibomber just sat down on the bed and pet my head and woke me up. i thought about biting him, but i have to be really nice until the ONE order of protection is dropped. my thinking is- it'll prolly be easier for some other idiot to come along and get another one against me while the OTHER ONE is still active, so i refrain from any physical abuse til it is lifted- then it is back to normal living. oh my GOD, this past year and a half has almost killed me- not being able to club him like i usually do. i know that mother fucker cant last forever. my day is coming.

we chew our feet now

dear in my house diary,

people. i am in my house. i have my air on and it works so damned good. becky started chewing on her paws last month. i think she has anxiety. she wants me to hold her all the time. i think. i cant though, because if i did- that is all i would do. this morning when i woke up, i just laid there and looked at her for fifteen minutes right in her face and felt her breath pass across mine. peacefulness stretched across the bridge of her nose and down her wide chest and her little paws crossed on my chest and i loved her, but not as much as i do now. we love the air conditioning around here. it is like a sleep inducing drug. like we need any more doses of that.

living, learning, and eating mexican

dear ready to eat mexican food diary,

ima chow down on the mexican food today and i can hardly fucking wait. AND ima make the lady sing with her guitar to prince william. he is going to be so pissed OFF. he hates that type of shit. i'll have prince harry video it on his phone and post it if it turns out postable. then we are going up to the hospital to see all the new babies born today. william's idea. i thought that was so sweet. he's gunna have that little baby of his own later on this year and i think he is really looking forward to it- but i also know he realizes how much it is gunna suck. i'm just glad the baby momma is almost 21 and older than he is and seems more in check about everything. william is just so in love with the idea of a baby, he's not thinking about it growing up into a child yet. i need to take him to see a stubborn ass seven year old. anyone got one? oh my, or a know it all ten year old. and i sure do HOPE they have POKEMON cards when HIS kid is old enough. ima get him his VERY FIRST PACK and watch the addiction flourish. i hated them fucking things. i still have them all put up- don't anyone tell prince william. he would have a fit prolly. he is STILL grounded from them.

rocky mountain floor

dear background on my blog diary,

i know it is time to change it again, but fuck i don't want to. the rocks BY FAR are my favorite. it is because i know each rock personally. i've had these same rocks for over twenty years y'all. i've brought them home with me from places i've visited all over the USA and now finally they are all back in one spot again. they've been scattered loose in the basement and packed away in boxes (by threes- which i do not understand- i kept finding 3 rocks in each box i would go through- it was so dumb) and then after days of this- i had my whole former fishtank full on the floor in front facing me. i was fascinated. i was like, 'fucking aye.' i didn't put my slate out because i stacked it in another box. i would use my bigger rocks to make caves and the slate for the roof and my fish would sleep in there, but that was in my former fish tank. but now we have the snake- so all my rocks are just rocks- not caves- and my slate is just slate. i'll never forget bustin up that chalkboard with a hammer either- it was thick and heavy. a real chalkboard is made of slate and is SO bad fucking ass in a fish tank- especially when used as roofs for terrorist caves for fish. ima change my background though. prolly later today. FUCK.

just part of the job

dear what is that smell diary,

i must be standing on a fish, because well, never mind. fuck i worked hard last night. something. actually i ain't sure what that horrific smell is, but iffin it is from the land down under- things are about to change. good grief. it is humid as a wet washrag outside this morning and i sure am glad i ain't giving birth today again- even if i do smell like it. wow- what a night. i had a ball. i could do that again a hundred times over. sometimes you gotta leave it alone, when you cant see eye to eye- when there ain't no good times- but there ain't no bad times- there is only time for another customer (or two) and you take them- even though it's gunna make you smell in the morning? yup.

nobody asks me

dear favorite customer diary,

i just had a late night visit from my favorite customer ever and now i am worn out and all sweaty, but when i get back to bed i will cool off again there and i just heard it was supposed to be a hundred degrees by friday or some dumb shit, which by the way- is totally unacceptable. fuck all that. the dogs almost busted me when i came in- becky barked- the bitch. i want to take a bath- but i ain't gunna. unibomber/insect repellent. oh yeah that reminds me, does anyone know what termites look like? and now guess what else? my dad is all bellyaching how he has these certain persistent resistant weeds growing in his yard right? i took him to get dope the other day and he said he sprayed and the dope made the weeds look 'sickly,' but didn't kill them, but he cant figure out where on earth them weeds are coming from. i'm like "DUH DAD, ITS ALL THAT DAMN BIRD FOOD YOU CRAM OUT THERE IN THAT FEEDER. IF IT WAS POT SEED YOU WAS FEEDING THEM BIRDS- YOU'D HAVE A WHOLE BACK YARD FULL OF MARIJUANA." he looked at me strange like- but only for a moment and he said, "you know, i'll bet you are right."

tail feathers

dear pulling it out and shaking it diary,

when i eat something i like, or even put something in my mouth that i enjoy, i am all on that shit. all on it. i enjoy things in my mouth and i am not going to lie about it. chewing on chewy stuff, sucking on smooth things, the taste of sweet goodness exploding in my mouth, yeah, ima sucker for some of the tasty goodies in life. but every once in a while i tend to make my fair share of messes. whoop there it went- down my shirt and into my bra. there is only one way to fix it too, really, there is only one way. you gotta pull the bra away from your body and shake the bitch out AND if that don't work, SOMETIMES you have to blow the crumbs out. i hate hairs in my shirt too. seems like there is always one there. i can stick my hand up my shirt and pull one out any damn time you want. i have such long pieces of hair- they curl up around everydamnthing. once a hair got stuck around my nipple and i almost died. i wasn't blowing that bitch off. i had to pull over and damn near surgically remove that sucker.

rat bastards

dear i like the sun and my sons diary,

tell me why my son can pick up a snake from the yard but not the snake in our house. tell me why the sun shines so brightly on the plants on the porch and they grow so big and happy- all but that one that ain't died yet. i wish i knew why i planted that tree next to my driveway, it seemed like a good idea at the time. now that the hair has grown back in on my chin, it is time to yank that mother fucker out again. the problem is- sometimes it will break. not often will this happen, but it does and it sucks because then i must wait for it to come back in- to pull the bitch again. usually something of good luck in nature will occur when i pull the little black bastard out and blow it off my finger while making the same wish i have made for the last sixteen months. i don't feel like i am betraying my wish by sharing it here, because i am not disclosing the ACTUAL wish when i tell you what i wish for. i squeeze my eyeballs really tight, is what i do, then i take the deepest breath in that a former and 'in waiting' pothead can take in, and i blow the black chin hair off my 'fuck you' finger of my left hand and i wish my hardcore wish, "PLEASE KARMA, DEAREST KARMA, JUST DO YOUR VERY BEST," then i open my eyeballs up and my bastard hair is always gone. i know my wish will come true. and iffin it already has, i hope it comes true again. SHOUT OUT CUNTFACE!

pay per view only

dear dripping in plain sight diary,

filled to the brim and dripping from my forehead with sweat, picture that and you'll have me then- a hot and satisfied whore. i am delighted to add, almost ready for my evening work and everything. i might even wear a skirt, but i aint for sure yet, because that would entail shaving the seaweed from my legs and i dunno if i feel like getting wet again. someone who shan't remain nameless, THE UNIBOMBER, has positioned my bathtub so he can view the bottom quarters of my legs from the KITCHEN, (and somehow thought i would miss that) so now i have absolutely NO privacy in my tub WHATSOEVER (if you know what i am saying and i have complete faith that you do) so why bother trying again for the second time today. why ever bother again at all? i'll find another way. i'll have rosa come over and we will move the bathtub back where it was- if i have to. i certainly don't watch him shower. i swear.

the undercover dollar store

dear lunch at dads diary,

hee haw! it is on like the kong. goin to dads for lunch again and all he wants me to bring is baked beans. hail to the yes. he loves my baked beans cuz i make them like his sister- who makes them like his mom used to. i put molasses in them. i ain't no dumbass. i tell him every time i bring them over and he eats the shit out of them- thinking he could make them too sometime later. brown sugar, homemade catsup (if you can spare it) catsup iffin you cant, a fresh tomato if you got a ripe one, dry mustard iffin you want, and some molasses- and drain all the shit juice that comes with the dumb beans- if you're usin canned beans. if you're usin dried beans- that's even better. just have plenty of chicken broth and some salt pork and lots of time. i don't have time for the dried ones today since i just found out, but i'm in the mood for some now. maybe i'll have to go out to california and have my aunt  make me some- just to make sure things ain't changed any. i wanna make sure i am still doing it right.

radical change

dear it has been cold and now it's hot diary,

sickness will be brewing. people always get sick when the weather does this shit. i stay away from people, other than my contracted clients, so i wont get sick. i will now name this post 'radical change,' and somewhat dedicate it to the way it feels outside and then tell you how bad prince harry stunk up the house this morning with his hair product. something MUST be done about this because a person should not be woken up by the smell of hair products. i don't care who you are in life- hair products, and non-aerosol at that, should never greet a person from a glorious fit of slumber. i knew the hair product smelled horrible last night when i first smelled it, but never once thought of the possibility of it waking me up at any time. my plan is to slip into his forbidden territory and lift it into the public area and place it directly into the garbage receptacle outside as soon as i possibly can. then i intend on cleaning the upstairs bathroom to call it an accident when he comes back to find it missing. it is a lot of work on this- A SAFE HOT DAY, but something has to happen. feel me?

happy birthday sloshie

dear josh diary,

my best friend and i found out we were pregnant on the same day. then we signed up to go to the same doctor. then we went to our appointments together, (as much as we could,) then our due dates were the same day, then we both got huge, then my phone rang one saturday night as i was packing my bag to sneak to the hospital because i was in labor. it was may 29th about 10PM, i'd just walked my ASS off down at the boat races at the lake. "hello?" i answered my phone, i figured it was the unibomber calling- we were on the 'outs' but almost back on the 'ins.'
"sup mommy?" it was harvey, my best friend's husband. oh fuck me in the ass twat i thought, "guess what?" he said.
"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME?" i screamed.
"nope," he laughed, "and he's big and beautiful woman and PERFECT."
"i'm goin now, tell her i'm right behind her and i love you guys."
i am always last. always. but 23 hours later i had my little boy. josh came on the 29th and william the 30th. i had seventeen hours of hard ass labor ahead of me that kelly got spared. but when we laid them boys on the floor next to each other- something magical happened. it was if they'd already met. sure josh was a foot longer than william from the start, but when you scooted him up to eye level- you could tell josh really got a kick out of all william's funky hair. i talked to kelly last night and we both miss our tiny infants. neither one of us can believe how fast time has gone by.

saving nail paint

dear beautiful fingernails diary,

ever since i started this blogging shit, my polish use has dramatically decreased. so now when i wake up with beautiful nails- i'm all spellbound for the first hour of my wakefulness because i cant believe how pretty they are again. you guys, there was a time NOT SO LONG AGO that i wouldn't go a day without painting my nails. you could gauge my mental wellness on the state of my nails and you just cant do that anymore. i could really give two fucks about them on the day to day basis. omg, and my toes- bahahahha- what toes. they haven't been painted since i dunno when and i wore heels last saturday and had six showing. i am so glad my fingernails have grown back out since i broke that one putting my tennis shoe on. wow that was dumb. i did get to chew on that nail for a week though, the part that broke off. man it was sure good. i dunno what happened to it either. i bet i forgot and swept it up in the vacuum. yup, i bet that is what happened. that was sure a terrible day when that happened. i was pissed off. but i lived. now it is all grown out like it never happened again. it makes me wonder how many days i'll have this new color on now, but i dunno, i don't care really. i like it- sos it prolly don't matter.

free to disrupt any home

dear seeking people out diary,

one thing i don't do is solicit for customers like the hero does. you will not find me on the dating and singles hookup sites for swingers in my local area. oh for fucks sake no. for one thing, i'd be so afraid someone around here would know who i was, and for another, i ain't that desperate yet. i did meet the hero online though. he was my first and last. i was having a rummage sale and i was in between customers and chatting in a yahoo chatroom. it was april 2005- i was trixiethewhore- he was thecityfireman. i am still trixiethewhore, but i dunno what alias he uses these days, karenw, princessfishbitch, billywoo, hoseman, mrbill, mrhoseguy, fryerman, and who knows what else. it took him til september to get me to meet him in person though, september 12th is when i finally gave in. ima fast moving whore. some would ask, "why september 12th?" and my response would then be, "i didn't fucking know then, but i do now. it was fate. another wicked- but CHARMING card of fate," is what i would laugh and say.

the game changer

dear under exposure and over prepared diary,

being ready for anything is the name of my game. that is really what it is all about. if you're not willing to adapt instantly, then why throw your hat into the ring in the first place. that is the way i brought up my kids and looking back, when they were young, that philosophy couldn't have been a better way for this family unit to adhere to. things always got changed around. shit, one minute we could be loaded up in the car packed and ready to go to disneyworld, and end up at the grocery store and i am not joking, but i wish i was. my kids are good sports about being let down, but me, not so much. i am usually pretty good at fixing a situation once it has gone astray. i am. that is one of my strongest personality traits and one i hope my boys got from me- or at least learned by watching.